The Sparkle Train Adventure II: Episode I
by Electrical Neskonsupakared
Summary: The last Sparkle Train Adventure was a huge success, so I am in the process of writing another! This is its first episode, in which miscellaneous characters—from anywhere! B&W2, Lord of the Rings, even Twilight—gather in the Harmonia House living room for the first ever second-annual Sparkle Train Adventure meeting! Find out which ones will be the lucky Adventurers!


Affixed above the front door of the Harmonia House was a flickering orange light. It was filled with dead moths that had died by repeatedly crashing their heads into the humming light-bulb's hot glass until they had fluttered, imprisoned, to shrivel in old cobwebs. One evening, Legolas attempted to access these insects by removing the light's glass casing with the aid of a screwdriver, because he was hungry and he had heard that kangaroos ate bugs. He kept his pace efficient; the Sparkle Train Adventure meeting was commencing in five minutes.

The grind of a horse's hooves in the gravel driveway advanced upon the porch Legolas stood on but he feared not: his trusty chainsaw (whom he had denominated Keith) jingled merrily at his belt. The blond and effeminate elf glanced over his shoulder and spotted—riding through the diminishing summer light, stubbly face shadowed by a velvet cowboy hat—a lone man mounted atop a muscular brown steed. Legolas lowered his screwdriver and stepped away from the lighting fixture.

"Salutations. Who might you be?"

"No one," grunted the rider, with a self-conscious touch to the brim of his hat.

"I refuse to believe you," Legolas announced. In two nimble leaps, he had descended the porch stairs to confront the stranger. "_All_ kangaroos have names."

"I ain't no kangaroo."

"Everybody," cried a passionate Legolas, "is a kangaroo, even if they do not deserve it!"

"You know what I'm thinkin', Legless? Your engine's runnin', but there ain't nobody drivin'."

"Wait a moment," said Legolas, peering at the rider's face, "are you Aragorn?"

There was a lengthy silence in which the cowboy puffed a strand of sodden brown hair from his eyes and squinted.

"Well," said the cowboy, feeling uncomfortable, "that's one way of sayin' it ..."

Legolas smiled.

"So ... uh ... Hey! What're you doin'? Why're you holdin' a screwdriver and why've you got a chainsaw?"

Legolas looked at his screwdriver.

"I was hungry."

"Then, son—" Aragorn shifted on his saddle— "you should be eatin' grapes, not tools."

"I heard," said Legolas, voice resonating with soft reproach, "that kangaroos oft dine on _bugs_. I had been using a screwdriver to unfasten the lighting fixture and collect some for myself."

"Kangaroos don't eat bugs, sonny."

"I must have been misinformed," said a meek Legolas, and lowered his gaze.

Aragorn heaved a snot-crackled inhalation, wiped his nose and jumped, lackadaisical, off the horse. His step was tinged by a jaunty bounce. "Look. I came 'cause I been hearin' word that there's gonna be another Sparkle Train Adventure, and there's gonna be a meetin' 'bout it, in the Harmonia livin' room, in five minutes."

"That is true," said Legolas, "and I intend to be present at the meeting as well!"

"Yeah, yeah." Aragorn gave his chin a nod. He smacked his horse, who whinnied and galloped into the dusk.

"I hope that, if it is possible for me to become an Adventurer, my position will be one of esteem and significance," said a dreamy Legolas.

Aragorn ignored him as he stomped his ascent up the porch stairs. Once he was a metre or so away from the front door, he portrayed obvious relaxation in spreading his feet apart and swinging both hairy hands at his sides near his belt loops, where two pistols hid inside holsters.

"Aragorn," said Legolas, "what are you doing?"

Aragorn still wasn't listening. "When I say draw ..."

"Aragorn—!"

"One. Two. Three. Draw!"

"Ara—"

BANG. The door's handle was punctured by a bullet hole, and Aragorn replaced his pistol to its holster.

"Straight shootin'," he muttered. "Can put a bullet into somethin'."

He shoved the door open and paraded into the building's dark and gloomy interior; Legolas spared the light a saddened glance before following him.

The walls of the damp, musty hallways were so close together that they had to traverse them single-file. At last, they arrived at the warm square of light—from which the sound of energized babbling wafted—that was the doorless entrance to the living room.

There were so many people in the place, it was bursting at the seams. People had crammed themselves on the ratty couches, set up lawn chairs on the blotchy carpet others simply sat on, and perched their rears on the edges of the battered coffee table that swayed under their weight. Most, to entertain themselves while they waited for the meeting to start, watched the screen of a dusty television that emitted an ear-piercingly high-pitched note when it was turned on. Some people ate food they had brought, but only in a mousy silence, for fear that a particularly rowdy creature would snatch it from their lips.

Legolas and Aragorn migrated to the general Middle Earth socializing area, where a chunky and weather-beaten dwarf with a scraggly reddish beard and a gently-smouldering pipe sticking out of his mouth—Gimli—grunted observations to Galadriel, Morning Star of the elves, who was curled into foetal position amidst pallid trembles that a brow-furrowing Gandalf scrutinized from behind a pair of bushy eyebrows.

Of the folk from real life, there was Anna, a therapist, dressed in a tidy navy-blue suit; Emma, a manga-ka, wearing her trademark sweater-that-can-fit-two-Emmas; Amanda, a detonation engineer, in an elegant and flowered blue summer dress concealing the dynamite she always carried in case of an emergency; Kassidy, a fashion designer, who was draped in a glittering green gown that matched the wide-brimmed hat that expanded a foot around her in all directions, and Shayla, an experienced animal trainer, in a casual T-shirt and jeans. They were loosely assembled and conversed with many giggles, raised eyebrows, and playful punches to the arm.

Across the room, there was a smile on Mei's mouth, but a deep-set frown down-turning Hue's, whose elbow her hand had subconsciously drifted to.

"Come on, Hue-kun, cheer up!" said Mei, giving his elbow a slight shake. "We're going to go on a Sparkle Train Adventure!"

"I'm perfectly cheerful already," said Hue, who was still frowning into the distance.

"I—I really don't think you are, Hue ..."

"Sure I am," said Hue, and forced himself to rove his vexed gaze toward Mei. "This is going to be really exciting."

Natural and Ghetsis Harmonia, the masters of the House, crossed the living room's threshold. Hue's gaze darkened as Ghetsis shovelled popcorn into his jaws.

"Hue?" Mei shook his arm again. "It's okay ... I don't think Team Plasma will give us much trouble during the meeting, or on the Adventure ..."

"I don't believe you. Yet."

"Hey, guys!" said a familiar voice.

Mei whirled on the speaker and beamed. "Kyouhei-kun!"

"Hello," said an unsmiling Hue, who was contemplating N's excessive scooping of popcorn from Ghetsis's bag.

"I haven't seen you in such along time!" Mei exclaimed. She unclasped her hand from Hue's elbow—he quenched his own flicker of a reaction—and perceived the grinning Kyouhei, and his wild hair, with dense joy that sparkled in her eyes. "Where have you been?"

"I've—"

Kyouhei's brief beginning to what may have been a fascinating tale was interrupted by the arrival of Red, Yellow, Blue, Green, Cheren and Bianca.

"Hello!"

"H-hi ..."

"He he!"

"Pesky woman."

"Good evening."

"Hi!"

The nine of them lapsed into blathering chitchat.

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were new. Neither had set foot in the Harmonia House in their entire lives until now, and neither fraternized with the common company, as Katniss was too engrossed in squinting her eyes, clenching her fists, tossing dishevelled strands of chestnut hair from her face, clenching her jaw, and overall, silently defending herself with every breath she took. Peeta, on the other hand, had quite a vacant blink and both eyebrows were upturned into a dreamy, doting expression.

Edward Cullen—yes, the perfectly-sculpted, razor-toothed, straight-nosed, high-cheekboned, crooked-smiling, topaz-eyed, bronze-haired, shimmering, muscular, hard-skinned vampire—was another newcomer. He lingered in a darkened corner of the living room, stooped and sickly pale.

Gandalf switched off the television by a remote attached to the tip of his staff and screeched on a whistle until the babble had perished.

"Thank you," he muttered beneath his beard, and lumbered to the front of the room as the focal point of awareness. Unfortunately, Aragorn saw a golden opportunity to intervene. He approached Gandalf with a jaunty swank and shoved him out of the way using his shoulder's brute force.

"Howdy!"

Groans resounded throughout Aragorn's audience. Gandalf rubbed his forehead.

"Just sayin', y'all," said Aragorn, "before we choose the Sparkle Train Adventure's team leader, I wanted you to know I can do tight ropin'; can toss a lariat 'round somethin'. Can do real straight shootin', too. As for fast ridin', I can stay on a movin' horse, an' that's not to mention hard drinkin', swillin' whiskey."

"Excuse me," said Edward as he stepped forth, "but you lack the intoxicating presence I happen to possess."

"So? What beats the rugged outdoorsy type? Besides, you're just 'bout as welcome here as a skunk is at a lawn party. Betcha can't toss a lariat 'round somethin'."

"I am beautiful, pale, icy, gentle, lovable, loyal, mature, and a good kisser. Aragorn," said Edward, leaning his sympathetic head to the side, "these are factors anyone requires to be the optimal captain of the Adventurers. Isn't it obvious that I am the one best suited for this position?"

"You can put your boots in the oven, but that don't make 'em biscuits, Sparkletoot."

Edward smiled a crooked smile. "Ah, you called me Sparkletoot ... Aragorn—"

He chuckled and looked away, topaz irises brimming with pity, before continuing.

"Aragorn, you only supply me with the notions of more factors a prime captain must retain. Please note my sparkling abilities are ideal, and as for toot, let me just say I have a ... strong scent."

"Edward!" a strange new voice yelped. Both narcissistic speakers fell silent as they sought the outcry's source.

It had been Peeta. The baker's son was proffering a baguette to the vampire.

"Please," said the boy, his blue eyes wide and concerned. "You're too gaunt and pallid—like you have an eternal flu—you need nutrition."

"I'm sorry, Peeta, but I don't eat."

"Well, there's your problem!" Aragorn crowed, leaning back with his thumbs in his belt loops, leathers creaking. "I'm tellin' you, son, grapes are—"

"I am bulimic," Edward murmured.

Peeta's shocked countenance could have implied that someone had shoved a radioactive wire brush up his rear. "You ... you p-poor boy—you need to get help!"

Edward gave his sallow hand an impatient wave. "You have no cause for alarm. I sustain my vigour by drinking blood."

"That can't be healthy," Mei whispered to Hue, her brow furrowed.

Gandalf directed the now-remote-free tip of his staff at the thieves of his stage presence and blasted Edward and Aragorn out of his way with a blinding flash of light and an ear-splitting bang. Edward's pristine bod clattered to the farthest wall, his flailing limbs almost decapitating Galadriel, and the only object that obstructed Aragorn's path to crashing through the windowpane was the television.

"Poor television," said Peeta.

"Much better," said Gandalf.

Edward dusted himself off prior to resuming a dignified gait. "I meant for that to happen."

Gandalf paid no heed to Edward's indignant comments in the background and used his staff as a microphone. "Let the meeting commence."

Bianca began to clap, but her applause ceased rapidly in the quietude. Gandalf shuffled a few crinkled scraps of paper preliminary to proceeding.

"Welcome, potential Sparkle Train Adventurers!"

Both Cheren and Bianca attempted a light applause, which proved to again be a failure. Bianca, surprised that Cheren had assisted her smattering of acclamation, glanced to him with a delighted twinkle in her pupil, but a pink-cheeked Cheren avoided eye contact.

"Because the new, revised Sparkle Train has only fifteen seats, the Adventurers had to be chosen with painstaking care," said Gandalf. "Every elected Adventurer is gathered here tonight. However, not everybody in this room is an Adventurer."

Sharp intakes of breath were scattered across the living room.

"The individuals accepted as Adventurers are ..."

Gandalf looked up from the scrap of paper his wrinkled fingers clutched to examine the reaction of his listeners.

"Emma, Anna, Shayla, Kassidy, and Amanda ..." Gandalf flipped the paper scrap to read the other side.

"Of manga characters: Hue, Mei, N, Blue, and Bianca."

Green did a double-take. Cheren spun about to stare at Bianca, and his hand automatically snatched her arm.

"Bianca?"

"Ch-Cheren? Why did you grab my arm—that k-kind of hurts—!"

"Ah! I'm sorry—"

"Wh-what ... but ... not—?" stammered Kyouhei, whose eyes were, to exaggerate a tad, round as saucers.

On the other hand, Ghetsis clapped N on the back. "_That_'_s_ my Natural!"

Gandalf cleared his throat and the uproar simmered down.

"Of miscellaneous creatures: Peeta Mellark and Edward Cullen."

Oh boy, did Edward ever look smug.

"I volunteer!" shrieked Katniss, throwing herself forward. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Gandalf's eyelid twitched in annoyance. "Go jab a tranquilizer dart into your thigh to relieve us all of migraine headaches, you utter fool. You aren't an Adventurer!"

Katniss choked and gasped at him, pathetic tears streaming down her cheeks. Despite the fact that she was somewhat lost for words, she managed to spit, "Believe me—I'll—I'll get you back for this!"

Peeta gripped her hand, tears brimming on his own lashes. "Don't c-cry, my sweet!"

Gandalf turned a deaf ear to their melodramatics and ploughed on. "I conclude to announce the last three Adventurers are Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli."

At the mention of Gimli's name, Amanda vaulted up from her stool in protest.

"I resign," she barked.

"But, _sibling_!" Emma mourned, pouting as she issued a halfhearted tug to Amanda's fingers. Gandalf shifted his piercing gaze to the indignant Amanda.

"Resignations are not allowed."

"But—"

"Meeting adjourned!" thundered Gandalf.

Some people stood, stretched their limbs and digits, and loitered about, while others dispersed into the night. The living room's atmosphere was far more dejected or high-strung than it had been before the meeting's commencement. The Sparkle Train Adventure was about to begin.

Keep an eye out for Episode II of The Sparkle Train Adventure II.


End file.
